


Scars

by Itrustyoutokillme



Series: Prompt One-Shots [1]
Category: Prison Break
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post Series, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 03:32:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11705940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itrustyoutokillme/pseuds/Itrustyoutokillme
Summary: Michael & Sara having a little chat in bed.





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

> written for the Tumblr Prompt "Of course I remembered". - Thanks anon!

#74: “Of course I remembered!”

Sara was smiling. She hadn't stopped smiling since Michael had returned. It wasn't easy though. Sometimes, even when the wounds healed, the scars still sat just under the surface and itched every single day. Michael was different, tainted by his experiences, and his scars were very real. The medical professional inside Sara knew that he would need help, especially as living apart from your wife and child for seven years was as mentally as damaging as it could have got for him.

The woman inside Sara – the wife, lover and soul mate – knew without a shadow of a doubt, that Michael was still underneath the scars. Every once in a while, when she least expected it, Michael would do something and it would leave her with a smug grin for days. Now was one of those times.

Michael didn't just have mental scars, he had physical ones too. Even in the darkness of their bedroom, Sara could feel them under her fingertips as she traced the previously inked skin on his chest. He didn't flinch, but Michael lifted his hand to hers and halting her touch, lacing his fingers with hers. He offered her a small twitch of a small as she lay beside him, their room hot and sticky with the smell of sex.

“I have something for you,” he breathed into the dimness. Sara returned his smile, her face eagerly lighting up beside him. She rearranged herself and the bed creaked under her shuffle, pillows plumped behind her and her naked body pressing into them with excitement. Sara's own scars were still there, a little less thick and raw, but no less visible on her back. She clutched the thin, white sheet to her bosom, the high thread count material sliding over her skin like silk.

“Oh?” She almost squeaked, her voice rising with the single syllable. Her enquiry was met with silence, only a simple eyebrow wiggle as Michael rolled away from her and leaned over the edge of the bed. Again it groaned, now under Michael's weight, and the sheet threatened to expose their nakedness as it was pulled with him.

Sara took the opportunity to reach beside her and pull the tiny, toggled cord of her lamp. The room glowed amber under its light, instantly revealing Michael to her. His legs were tensed at an awkward angle, his muscular back rippling under exertion as he tried to stay on the top of the bed. Sara stifled a giggle at his display and finally settled herself back into the pillows just as he rolled back onto the bed with a grunt.

“You keep everything under the bed?” Sara laughed, rolling slightly to meet Michael's body as he got comfortable beside her once more. One of her legs tangled with his, her toes smoothing over the slightly wiry hair against his shin before it came to rest between his thighs.

“Only the important things,” Michael quipped with a small smile.

Sara's brow knitted together with confusion and she wrapped her arm around his bicep, pulling her face flush with his skin. She was eager to learn what he had retrieved from under the bed, and how she had missed it all this time. She couldn't see anything and figured it was small enough to hide because Michael's hand was draped over the edge of their king size bed out of her view. “Patience, Dr. Scofield,” Michael teased, his voice a seductive drone and a sweet as honey.

Sara pouted a little and pressed a tender kiss to his arm, smiling when he didn't squirm away because it was on top of a scar. Sara gave his arm a squeeze to let him know she was proud of him for holding fast, for letting her show him her affections. She knew Michael was conscious of the scars, especially in the light, constantly wearing long sleeves and insisting on having the lights off when they made love.

That in itself had taken a while; whilst the flame between them had never extinguished, it had been threatening to go out for so long that Michael wasn't sure Sara would still want him this way. He was physically changed; Gnarled and bruised from years of escaping prisons and battling some of the lowest scum the world had to offer. Every single fight he had encountered left him with more and more marks, each blemish against his skin a constant reminder of the fight to get back to his family. It had taken him a while to assure himself that they had been worth it. And the first night he had made love to Sara, after so long feeling empty, he had known it.

“Come on, Michael,” Sara almost bounced beside him. “I'm excited!”

Michael grinned and lifted his arm. Twirled between the cracked skin of his fingertips was a long, twine brown stem. About half way up were two leaves, folded flat and slightly curved over the edge of his fingers. More stem above those revealed the flower sitting on top, the most beautiful and intricate ivory coloured rose Sara had ever seen. The paper rose was so lifelike that Sara had no idea it wasn't real until she reached for it with a smile.

“You seem to have got better at this,” She commented idly as she lifted the rose from his fingertips and moved it back towards her face. There was no scent, but as she lifted it to her closed mouth smile, Sara imagined the faint waft of sweet sunshine as she inhaled.

“I've had a lot of practice,” Michael smirked. He lifted one arm and wrapped it around her bare shoulders, holding to him as he watched her reaction.

“It's beautiful,” Sara breathed, finally looking back to him and arching her neck to plant a kiss to his lips. “Thank you, Michael.”

Michael smiled against her kiss, licking his lips a little when they parted. “Traditionally, Ivory roses are used to express a long lasting promise of commitment and the sincerity of love.” Michael paused, letting his words sink in as Sara's inspected the fine, swirled paper edges of the rose.

Sara wiggled against him, moving even closer and resting her head down on Michael's chest. She laid the rose on his torso so it was in front of her face and she traced the stem with her fingertips. “I love it,” she smiled again, her heart swelling with love for the man who had given so much to keep her safe.

“I've actually made you an entire bouquet,” Michael snorted a laugh and his chest rumbled under her ear. “Two dozen,” he admitted with a tiny air of shyness to his voice. “Two dozen, ivory paper roses with a single red one.”

Sara frowned a little and lifted her head from the slow beating rhythm in his chest. “One red one?” Michael nodded.

“It means 'I Love You'.”

Sara reached up a hand and cupped his cheek. Michael's head nudged into her touch and his hand flattened over her back and held her to him like he would never let her go. “I Love you too,” Sara whispered, never breaking eye contact with his gorgeous blue eyes. Michael's eyes had also changed with the years or torment, but the cyan hue had never dulled and they were as vibrant as Sara remembered.

Michael dipped his head, eyes flickering between Sara's lips and her warming hazel orbs, and he captured her lips with his. He kept the kiss slow, teasing Sara's mouth open with a damp trace of his tongue and sucking on her bottom lip gently. Sara's hand slid from his cheek to the back of his head, clutching at the prickly shaven scalp and holding his face to hers. Michael trailed his long digits down her forearm, smirking against Sara's parted lips when she gasped at his touch.

“Why paper?” She asked breathlessly, the sudden realisation hitting her. Michael had bought her flowers, but it had been rarely and she always wondered why.

Michael smiled and rested his forehead against hers. “Paper last forever,” He said simply, letting his eyes fall closed. “Real flowers just end up dead and in the trash a week later,” he chuckled.

Sara laughed with him as her own words fell from his lips. Her words from so long ago she had almost forgotten saying them. Michael had, and always would be, the most beautiful enigma to Sara. She was never ceased by his determination for everything, the least of all his willingness to do whatever it took to simply make her smile.

“You remembered,” Sara patted his cheek softly, willing his eyes to open and meet hers once more. She pulled her forehead from his and their eyes met once more, her fingertips lingering against the lightly grown scruff on his cheek.

“Of course I remembered,” Michael smiled sweetly. He pulled the sheet, white cotton bunched in his fists and pressed his other hand against the side of Sara's hip. She had no choice but to follow his lead and moved to straddle his waist, his silent invitation to do so being read loud and clear. Michael smoothed his huge hands over the almost transparent sheet and it fell from Sara's body effortlessly in a smoke like swirl. It pooled her her hips, exposing her to him and Michael's fingers danced along the side of her thighs.

“And you know, I'm a pack rat,” Sara wiggled her brow at him and ran her tongue over her bottom lip. Michael felt himself harden beneath her and his lips twitched into a nervous smile. Their words seemed so familiar and yet had been spoken so long ago that neither of them knew how they had remembered them for so long.

“You never throw anything out,” Michael watched Sara writhe on his lap, her heavy lidded stare genuine and the best part of their game. Michael loved the way Sara's reacted to him, had always reacted to him. Her back arched a little, jutting out her pebble like nipples that were already eager for his skilled hands and Michael sucked in a breath as he felt the silken warmth of the dampness between her thighs against his member.

Sara ground her hips down onto his arousal, a soft groan escaping her lips. Her fingernails clawed at his chest, scraping the lightest lines through his already raised scars. This time, Michael did not flinch.

“You should see my apartment,” Sara's winked and dove at his mouth in a feverish kiss.


End file.
